


My work is a game, a very serious game

by DivineSquishy



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivineSquishy/pseuds/DivineSquishy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reno blew up another helicopter. Tseng is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My work is a game, a very serious game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neurotoxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts).



> Written for Pr0ntober 2010. Repostings, woot \o

"I ought to subtract that from your salary.”

To the untrained eye Tseng would have been looking the calm, collected boss from head to toe in that moment, but Reno knew better. There was that tiny twitch to his eyebrow, the mouth neatly set into a thin line. And, oh. The fact that he had loosened his tie the moment Reno had set foot into the office.

“Come on. I did get the job done.” Sort of, anyway. Reno shrugged, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. It was always exciting to see how far he could push Tseng before the other man exploded. 

Granted, perhaps he should feel a little guilty. Helicopters were not exactly the cheapest thing on Gaia, but it wasn’t like he had done it on purpose. It had merely been a collection of unfortunate circumstances. Such as damned Yazoo not dying in that explosion. Still, he had managed to at least delay the two men just fine.

“That is only if your definition of ‘getting the job done’ includes blowing up half of Midgar, not managing to eliminate the targets and destroying Shinra property in the process.” Tseng had stood up during his little monologue, moving towards the window.

“Ya didn’t mind so much when I blew up Sector 7.” Perhaps irrelevant, since that had been an order, but Reno couldn’t quite bite back the remark. He knew it would just serve to agitate Tseng even more.

He was right about that, too; Tseng spun around almost instantly, a glint in his eyes that Reno knew all too well. “Are you confusing work with your own incompetence now?”

His grin only grew at that remark, the other was so easy to rile up if you knew which buttons to push. And he’d had years of practice with that. He shrugged, stepping around the desk and closer, until he was stood right in front of Tseng, noses nearly touching. The other Turk had to know what he was getting up to, of course. They had played this little game far too often for it not to be obvious. Somehow that didn’t make it any less exciting. 

“Is there any particular reason for you to invade my personal space like that, Reno?” A quirked eyebrow and a slightly tilted head and Reno knew they were on.

He let a small chuckle escape, leaning even closer, until he knew his lips would be brushing the other’s ear as he spoke. “Just thinkin’, I should make it up to you, yanno. Wouldn’t want the leader unhappy with me now, would I?” He pulled back with that, not without hooking a finger under the already loosened tie. 

“A terrific idea, don’t ya think?”

He could feel Tseng relaxing against him, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. “And how, exactly, are you going to do that? Do enlighten me, Reno, we are talking a high-tech helicopter plus half of Midgar here.”

A smile meant he was agreeing to play. All the better for both of them.

Reno shifted closer again, pressing Tseng up against the window, one hand blatantly groping the other man’s crotch. “I think ya know how I plan to do it.”

The reaction followed almost instantly, a grunt of acknowledgement and heavy arms pressing him down on his knees. He’d expected it, the other man almost never said no these days. Reno snorted, nimble fingers working the fly open. So predictable. Easy. 

It didn’t throw him off much that Tseng was already half hard from their conversation alone. Just further proof that he’d already known where this was leading. “Closet pervert, aren’t ya?” Reno looked up once more, a smug smile on his face. 

He was the one who had brought the usually so stoic man into this state. It didn’t do much to make his already sizable ego shrink. 

“Just get to it,” Tseng hissed at him, letting his head fall back against the window, “and don’t touch yourself.” He added, jerking Reno’s head backwards on his hair just as he was staring to work a hand into his own pants. 

With a shrug he let it be, letting Tseng have it his way for now. It didn’t matter either way, he had the other man where he wanted him: at the mercy of his mouth and forgetting about the helicopter incident.

He didn’t bother with teasing Tseng, bracing one hand against the window pane behind him, securely wrapping the other around the base of his cock, tongue swirling at the head.

There was a certain kind of power in this, Reno had realized long ago. To have Tseng trembling under his mouth, feeling every single shudder. To slowly coax him into losing all that carefully constructed composure until it was only a firm hand on the other man’s hip that kept him from thrusting in further, from chocking Reno. Bringing him into a state where he was unable to hold himself back, cursing and panting with every hollowing of Reno’s cheeks.

The man who usually held command over them all coming undone by his tongue and lips alone, firm hands keeping his head in place, urging him to swallow every single drop, until no evidence could be seen.

It was only then that Reno allowed himself to pull back, the same smug smile on his face as before. “Ya think we shouldn’t maybe continue this somewhere more private?”

There was a certain coldness to Tseng’s gaze when it came to rest on the rather obvious bulge in Reno’s pants and he blinked, slightly confused when the other man merely snorted, tugging himself back into his pants.

“You have two hands, Reno. Learn how to use them.”

He blinked, watching motionlessly as Tseng walked right out of the door, only throwing a “You’re still paying for the damage,” back over his shoulder.

Well. Seemed like he’d lost this round.


End file.
